


Waiting

by Justnobody



Category: Hamilton - Fandom, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: M/M, NSFW, Smut, Smutlet, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 03:07:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8516134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justnobody/pseuds/Justnobody
Summary: It seems like waiting was all they ever did(A short lil M/M Hamilton smutlet! I wrote it at like 1am and wanted to share with you kind folks)





	

Waiting.   
It seemed like Alexander and Aaron Burr spent their whole lives waiting. Right now, however, they were waiting for it to feel wrong. Waiting for guilt, or shame, or SOMETHING to make them stop doing… whatever they were doing. Make Alexander’s hand stop grazing Burr’s manhood with a striking up and down motion, fluidity driving him mad. Make Alexander’s thumb stop gently swishing back and forth across the twitch head of Burr’s….Burr’s cock. Burr’s twitching, warm, fits-right-in-his-hand cock. The same hand that was moving back and forth with increasing speed, frenzied by the realization that this is what the both of them wanted and neither of them were going to stop. Burr was always going to wait and object once he’s the last person in the room, and Alexander was always going to keep going without any regards to what happens. Pretty much anyone that wasn’t the two of them could see this coming, but the two men looked at each other with the fierce intensity of utter shock. They were close friends, but they were married men who would butt heads at every opportunity. They weren’t the kind of men to meet up in Burr’s office and start tenderly plant sucking kisses on each other’s necks before Hamilton started unbuckling Burr and grasping his thighs as he placed himself into position. With a single, awkward, swift motion, Hamilton had taken the rising snake between his fingers, giving it the fierce stare he always did with those blasted beautiful eyes. Those piercing, gazing eyes, burrowing into Burr’s soul as another witty remark-to-be turns into a low, animal moan in Hamilton’s swift hands. One moan burned into another, and slowly following the lead of Hamilton’s hand became a passionate thrusting, a desperate attempt to take control and fuck the hand that holds him. The hand that controls him. A hand worn and clumsy after years of fighting, but electric and alive after a lifetime of writing. Damn him. Damn Alexander Hamilton, damn the effect he has on him, damn the horse he rode in on. Damn him for the gentle, pulsating kisses he plants on Burr’s neck. Damn it all, and especially damn *waiting*. Burr was going to have Hamilton inside him, on this desk, at that very moment.   
If that was the only choice Burr made his entire life without waiting, it would be worth it.


End file.
